Zhou’s stomach lurched as the ocean’s waves beat against the ship, rocking it to and fro in an aggressive dance. He swallowed roughly, tucking his knees in tighter to his chest in the damp blackness of the storage hold. It had been days since he had seen the sun, and the rations he had packed himself were already running lower than expected, but the thought of confronting the captain, or even a member of the crew, was still terrifying. He squeezed his eyes shut, resting his head on his knees. “Come on, this is what you’ve been working towards your entire life,” he muttered to himself, “just get up there and prove yourself.” As the ship swayed against the waves again, the teenager laid a hand against one of the storage crates he was crouched behind, pulling himself up in time with the boat’s rocking. With a deep breath, Zhou cracked his knuckles, pushing his weight against the trapdoor hatch and bracing himself for daylight.
To his surprise, it was just as dark above the hold as it was below. The ocean spray misted his face and hair as he rose from the hatch, salty air deceptively refreshing to his parched tongue. After a moment, though, the full force of the rainstorm was beating down upon him, soaking his clothes through in seconds. The ship’s fanned crimson sails whipped violently in the storm’s wind as the boat heaved against another wave,the massive structure rocking as dark, oily water splashed across the deck floor. Crew members were shouting orders over each other in the chaos, their frantic movements barely visible, save for a crack of lightning illuminating their silhouettes. Zhou wiped a hand over his forehead, pushing strands of damp hair up out of his eyes as he searched for a recognizable set of armor, brow furrowing as he realized nobody on the deck was wearing the trademark Saburashi uniform.
“Who are you working for?!” A blade was at his throat before Zhou could even process the grizzly voice’s demand.
“Wh-whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on! I’m not—”
“Answer the question or die where you stand, scum.”
“M-my name is Zhou Fu-in, I’m from Kyodai! I’m a farmer, but I know my way around a forge and a training camp!” His voice trembled as he raised his hands in surrender, squinting through the rain at the dark figure standing above him. “I’ve been told I’m too young to join the Saburashi, but I’ve been training my whole life.” Zhou took a deep breath to steady himself before adding brazenly, “Please let me join your crew!”
Although the icy metal of the sword was still pressed against his throat, the man wielding it grinned widely, his twisted expression lit momentarily in another flash of lightning. He let out a deep rumble of laughter before shaking his head, mumbling, “Gods above, that’s unfortunate.” In a swift motion, his sword cut deep into Zhou’s throat, whose last cry of protest was garbled as a thick spray of blood mixed with the ink and water already soiling the deck.
Admiral Jun wiped the blood from his sword with a bare hand, sliding the weapon back into his sheath as he pushed Zhou’s body back into the hold with his foot, the trapdoor shutting afterwards. As he found himself laughing again, a crew member approached him, chest heaving and sword at the ready.
“Admiral, I heard someone yelling, is everything alright?”
The admiral nodded, dismissing his lieutenant with a wave of his hands. “I’ve got it covered, Yeung, no need.” He looked back towards the trapdoor with a sigh, removing his helmet for a moment to run a hand through his soaked black hair. “Some kid was hiding in the hold ‘cause he wanted to join the Saburashi.” Jun laughed, replacing his helmet proudly as he added, “I guess he didn’t notice that the Kuroten had already secured this ship.” Another brutal wave shook the ship as he slapped Yeung on the back, turning his attention towards the surging ocean where an enormous scaly mass was weaving its way above and below the water’s surface, clouds of oil trailing behind it. “No time for chit-chat, Lieutenant, we’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
The colossal, writhing form of the Ikuchi serpent slithered alongside the hijacked Saburashi ship, ripples of movement sending imposing, frothy waves beating against the hull. Admiral Jun steadied his feet as he made his way across the deck to the helm, shouting another set of commands to his crew as he attempted to steady the ship once more. The soaked wood strained against the ocean’s barrage, and despite his best efforts, Jun found his ship tumbling beneath the surface as another tidal wave sent it crashing into a rock formation, the cracking of wood the last sound anyone heard before the rush of dark water tugged their bodies beneath the churning sea.
Sound and sight disappeared as the crew was pulled below the surface, save for the eerie, calm whistles of ancient whalesong coming from the serpent. The thick oil enveloping the creature clouded the vision of anyone who dare tried to open their eyes underwater, and as Admiral Jun frantically shed his armor to avoid sinking into the depths of the ocean, he found himself violently tossed beneath the surging current. A sudden, heavy guilt weighed on his mind and heart as he resigned himself to his inevitable fate, letting his body go limp as he accepted defeat.
However, only a mere moment had passed before Jun’s face connected with sand and rock, the impact sending intense pain down his neck and spine. He sputtered and gasped as his head broke the water’s surface, hands clawing into the soft earth as he pulled himself out of the convulsing, oily water. His chest heaved with harsh breaths as Jun rolled onto his back, pushing the matted mass of dark hair out of his face as he let the curtain of rainfall caress his bare skin. As his eyes fluttered open against the raindrops, Jun tilted his neck back to peer towards the land he had collided with, eyes widening as the horror of what he saw caught up to him. Armies of bodies hung from the trees, their hands and feet bound with what appeared to be a mix of tattered rope and their own organs, and dried blood colored the island sand a deep scarlet, the color persisting despite the downpour.
Sitting up abruptly, Jun twisted around to face the island’s forest, hands instinctively reaching to the sword on his waist as he spotted what looked to be a pair of eyes peering at him towards the underbrush. When he found nothing but bare skin, he swallowed, suddenly regretting his decision to forego drowning in his armor as several more pairs of red, glittering eyes blinked out of the darkness, the crackling of unseen joints echoing beyond the rainstorm.
To his surprise, it was just as dark above the hold as it was below. The ocean spray misted his face and hair as he rose from the hatch, salty air deceptively refreshing to his parched tongue. After a moment, though, the full force of the rainstorm was beating down upon him, soaking his clothes through in seconds. The ship’s fanned crimson sails whipped violently in the storm’s wind as the boat heaved against another wave,the massive structure rocking as dark, oily water splashed across the deck floor. Crew members were shouting orders over each other in the chaos, their frantic movements barely visible, save for a crack of lightning illuminating their silhouettes. Zhou wiped a hand over his forehead, pushing strands of damp hair up out of his eyes as he searched for a recognizable set of armor, brow furrowing as he realized nobody on the deck was wearing the trademark Saburashi uniform.
“Who are you working for?!” A blade was at his throat before Zhou could even process the grizzly voice’s demand.
“Wh-whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on! I’m not—”
“Answer the question or die where you stand, scum.”
“M-my name is Zhou Fu-in, I’m from Kyodai! I’m a farmer, but I know my way around a forge and a training camp!” His voice trembled as he raised his hands in surrender, squinting through the rain at the dark figure standing above him. “I’ve been told I’m too young to join the Saburashi, but I’ve been training my whole life.” Zhou took a deep breath to steady himself before adding brazenly, “Please let me join your crew!”
Although the icy metal of the sword was still pressed against his throat, the man wielding it grinned widely, his twisted expression lit momentarily in another flash of lightning. He let out a deep rumble of laughter before shaking his head, mumbling, “Gods above, that’s unfortunate.” In a swift motion, his sword cut deep into Zhou’s throat, whose last cry of protest was garbled as a thick spray of blood mixed with the ink and water already soiling the deck.
Admiral Jun wiped the blood from his sword with a bare hand, sliding the weapon back into his sheath as he pushed Zhou’s body back into the hold with his foot, the trapdoor shutting afterwards. As he found himself laughing again, a crew member approached him, chest heaving and sword at the ready.
“Admiral, I heard someone yelling, is everything alright?”
The admiral nodded, dismissing his lieutenant with a wave of his hands. “I’ve got it covered, Yeung, no need.” He looked back towards the trapdoor with a sigh, removing his helmet for a moment to run a hand through his soaked black hair. “Some kid was hiding in the hold ‘cause he wanted to join the Saburashi.” Jun laughed, replacing his helmet proudly as he added, “I guess he didn’t notice that the Kuroten had already secured this ship.” Another brutal wave shook the ship as he slapped Yeung on the back, turning his attention towards the surging ocean where an enormous scaly mass was weaving its way above and below the water’s surface, clouds of oil trailing behind it. “No time for chit-chat, Lieutenant, we’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
The colossal, writhing form of the Ikuchi serpent slithered alongside the hijacked Saburashi ship, ripples of movement sending imposing, frothy waves beating against the hull. Admiral Jun steadied his feet as he made his way across the deck to the helm, shouting another set of commands to his crew as he attempted to steady the ship once more. The soaked wood strained against the ocean’s barrage, and despite his best efforts, Jun found his ship tumbling beneath the surface as another tidal wave sent it crashing into a rock formation, the cracking of wood the last sound anyone heard before the rush of dark water tugged their bodies beneath the churning sea.
Sound and sight disappeared as the crew was pulled below the surface, save for the eerie, calm whistles of ancient whalesong coming from the serpent. The thick oil enveloping the creature clouded the vision of anyone who dare tried to open their eyes underwater, and as Admiral Jun frantically shed his armor to avoid sinking into the depths of the ocean, he found himself violently tossed beneath the surging current. A sudden, heavy guilt weighed on his mind and heart as he resigned himself to his inevitable fate, letting his body go limp as he accepted defeat.
However, only a mere moment had passed before Jun’s face connected with sand and rock, the impact sending intense pain down his neck and spine. He sputtered and gasped as his head broke the water’s surface, hands clawing into the soft earth as he pulled himself out of the convulsing, oily water. His chest heaved with harsh breaths as Jun rolled onto his back, pushing the matted mass of dark hair out of his face as he let the curtain of rainfall caress his bare skin. As his eyes fluttered open against the raindrops, Jun tilted his neck back to peer towards the land he had collided with, eyes widening as the horror of what he saw caught up to him. Armies of bodies hung from the trees, their hands and feet bound with what appeared to be a mix of tattered rope and their own organs, and dried blood colored the island sand a deep scarlet, the color persisting despite the downpour.
Sitting up abruptly, Jun twisted around to face the island’s forest, hands instinctively reaching to the sword on his waist as he spotted what looked to be a pair of eyes peering at him towards the underbrush. When he found nothing but bare skin, he swallowed, suddenly regretting his decision to forego drowning in his armor as several more pairs of red, glittering eyes blinked out of the darkness, the crackling of unseen joints echoing beyond the rainstorm.
“May the gods have mercy on my soul.”